Parisian Alternatives
by TheBreakfastGenie
Summary: "Tear up the letter I wrote. Burn, throw it in the Potomac, I don't care. Just please, forget every word." What if Jenny called Gibbs after Paris? What would happen? This is an AU one-shot about Jibbs. NOTE: Rated for MILD language.


Parisian Alternatives

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was alone in his basement, with nothing to do. He had burned the boat _Diane_ two days ago in a rage. Ironically, his passionate anger had not been brought on by the boat's namesake, but by another woman. It was still impossible to believe that she was gone. And yet, just walking away without a word was so like her. Jenny could be overly poetic at times without intending to be. Tonight, however, Gibbs had come across one of the few moments that held relief. He had no way to know when these moments would come, let alone control over them. But when his mind was numb enough he could stop thinking about her for just a moment. He'd become accustomed to living for those moments and hoped they were short and infrequent enough that what sanctity he did receive would remain uninterrupted.

Jenny Shepard was alone. She had been alone since she left him, and every moment she was wishing she hadn't. Now that the panic had quieted and Jenny could reason again, she was beginning to realize her mistake. It wasn't that she had made the wrong choice. There never really had to be a choice, but then Jenny never had been skilled at compromising. Jethro, naturally, was even worse. Emotions were difficult for Jenny to handle. She hadn't known her mother well as a child, and though she had been close to her father something had always been off. His death merely threw her over the edge. Jenny built her life around her ambition and avoided relationships, because they meant facing emotion. She had made one exception to her moratorium on significant romances. One was all it took to leave her a wreck once again. And if that weren't enough, the unconventional nature of the relationship complicated it further. So she had run. And she wished she hadn't. Jenny was cold and lonely. All she wanted was to go to him, pride swallowed, heart bared, and let it all go. Cry out the truth, take back every word, beg him to pretend it had never happened. But he was thousands of miles away.

Gibbs surveyed the materials in his basement, attempting to formulate a plan for a new project. His mind was entirely on wood; Jenny hadn't crossed it in almost an hour. It was the longest he had gone yet. Gibbs raised his arm and lightly touched a piece of scrap wood, considering its uses. He was still pondering them when the echoing ring of a telephone disturbed his planning.

"Jethro," the woman on the other end sobbed the moment he picked up the phone. How ironic. He'd finally managed to go a significant period of time without thinking about her when it was ruined by the woman herself. His first instinct was to hang up, but his pride was overridden by his desperate desire to hear her voice again. Gibbs hated Jenny, at the moment, but damned if he didn't love her anyway.

"Jenny," he stated. _Jenny_. He hadn't called her Shepard, or Agent Shepard, or even Jennifer. But he also hadn't used his special pet name for her. She'd never allowed anyone to call her Jen until she met him.

"Jethro, I..." Jenny paused, uncertain. "I miss you. Every moment, I miss you."

"Your choice, Jen," he answered. Surprisingly, his voice was not cold. More hurt than anything.

"I know. And I had- have -all my reasons lined up in a neat row. I can still recite them, they just don't seem to matter anymore.

"Tear up the letter I wrote. Burn, throw it in the Potomac, I don't care. Just please, forget every word. Say we're just separated because of work, and we're still okay, just finding our way back. Just please pretend none of this ever happened." Jenny was crying. She didn't cry often, didn't like to. But now the regret was overwhelming, and she wasn't a suave federal agent anymore. She was just a scared young woman with no family to comfort her.

"You know how much I want to Jen." Jenny understood the meaning in his words. As much as she wanted it, so did he. Jenny wasn't a foolish romantic, however. She knew what words would come next. _But. __I want to, Jen. But I can't. It's not the same anymore._

Gibbs considered his options. He didn't know what to do. Jenny knew the truth now. Somehow it was easier not to be angry with her when she wasn't actually there. Maybe because he couldn't look at her face to see if she was lying. Gibbs knew it was time to tell Jenny goodbye. He'd do it gently, he didn't want to hurt her more then necessary, but what else could he do? You can't repair a relationship when you're on different continents. But God, he wanted to see Jen again. And then from a nowhere in particular, a small voice appeared in the back of his mind. _If you really want it that much, what's stopping you?_ It was true, there was nothing in his way but geographical distance. And it wouldn't be that hard to take some time off and go there, wherever _there_ was. Gibbs realized he'd never asked where Jenny had actually been sent. It wouldn't be hard to find out.

"Enjoy your trip, Jen," he said. Gibbs couldn't tell Jenny yet what his choice was. But he had wanted to leave her some clue. He hadn't wished her luck in her reassignment, he had spoken as if she was on a business trip. "What's in your head, Jenny?" he whispered, and only then did he realize she'd hung up.

Cairo, Egypt

Jenny had hoped to avoid human contact until the morning, when she would have regained composure. She honestly had no idea what her conversation with Gibbs meant. Jenny turned, realizing she should return to her quarters. She'd had to go into the main office building to find a telephone. Stepping outside, Jenny was slightly surprised to see Ziva standing just in front of the door.

"Shalom, Jenny," the young Mossad officer greeted. Ziva glanced at Jenny's face. "Something is wrong." It was a statement, not a question. Jenny didn't offer a response. "Who were you calling?"

"Home," Jenny said simply. "DC. I spend most of my time overseas on assignment, but my home base is DC. Before I came here I was in Paris."

"Alone?" Ziva's brow creased with concern or confusion. She'd never known a law enforcement agency to send their agents on missions alone, but most people she'd worked with before mentioned a partner when they talked about their previous operations. Jenny hadn't.

"No, I was with my old partner."

"Was that your only mission together?"

"No. We worked together for a long time. He was my mentor."

"Where is he now?"

"Home." Ziva thought she was beginning to understand.

"His assignment sent him there?"

"Yes." Jenny knew he attempt to hide the pain in her voice was absolutely pathetic,

"You cared for him." Once again, a statement, not a question. Ziva David was young but she was perceptive.

"He was my partner. Of course I cared about him. I still do," she added softly

"The two of you were close enough that you ended up in tears just from calling him and you expect me to believe he was just your partner?" Ziva asked, incredulous. Internally Jenny sighed. She hadn't bothered actually lying to Ziva, because she could see right through it, but she had hoped simply leaving things out would be effective. Apparently not.

"I never said he was _just_ my partner. I... I loved him," she admitted.

"And he did not love you?"

"I'm... I'm not sure. I always thought he did. But then I began to question... now I think he loved me all along, but he doesn't know anymore that I love him." Ziva noted Jenny's use of the present tense in her final sentence.

"What happened, Jenny?" She asked the question gently.

"I'm here. He's not." Jenny was blunt.

Washington, DC

Two weeks later

Gibbs stared at his telephone, not sure what to do. He had gotten into Jenny's file the morning after their conversation. It was hard to believe he'd actually spoken to her. Jenny was in Cairo, but the nature of her mission was classified. Gibbs had managed to find a telephone number and part of him desperately wanted to dial it. But for some reason he was reluctant. He didn't know what to say to her. Sometimes he wondered if he had imagined the entire thing. Gibbs looked around his basement, unable to decide whether he should pick up the damn phone or not. His eyes landed on a piece of paper. He didn't have to walk across the room and pick it up to know what it was. The letter Jenny had written him. He'd hidden when he got home so it wouldn't remind him, but two weeks ago he'd pulled it out again. His mind made up, he reached for the phone.

Jenny answered the phone on the first ring. For the last two weeks she'd had an irrational hope that he would call her back, causing her to immediately answer the phone in the office before anyone else could.

"Hello?" Jenny greeted professionally, not wanting to reveal her foolish fantasies to whoever was calling.

"Hey Jen. I was just wondering if you're ever coming home." Jenny had been shocked before. To get as far as she had in her chosen field she'd had to learn to remain calm and expect the unexpected. But though Gibbs had taught her to anticipate everything else, he'd never stopped being unpredictable.

"I don't know. The assignment could last years." Jenny wasn't sure what he was saying. Did he want her back? Or was there some other reason he wanted to know when she'd be in DC again?

"I'll leave a light on for you, just in case," he replied. When Jenny came back to the States, he could fix everything. But he wasn't sure he could do it by talking.

"Don't. You'll waste your electricity." Jenny didn't know why she was discouraging him. She had extended the olive branch. Practically begged him to wait for her to come back so they could pick up where they left off. She just couldn't imagine he actually wanted to take her up on it.

Gibbs was about to retort when he realized Jenny had already hung up. Which was when he realized he couldn't wait indefinitely if he was going to convince Jenny he was serious. Looking at her letter again, he crossed the room and took it in his hands. Holding face up but not seeing the words, he ripped the paper in half. _I did what you wanted, Jen._

Cairo, Egypt

Four days later

Gibbs had arranged for leave time as quickly as he could. He couldn't be gone long and the next few days would be crucial. Not wanting to disturb Jenny when she was working, he waited until the evening to follow what directions he'd been able to find. As far as he could tell, Jenny was living on the grounds of the field office she worked in. Only when he approached the living quarters did he realize Jenny was outside, staring at the sky. She didn't see him. He walked up behind her.

"Hey, Jen," he said softly. She turned around, startled.

"What are you doing here?" He could have cut her off, he had anticipated the question. But he let her say it, if only to hear her voice.

"You couldn't come to me. I needed to see you," he explained. Jenny didn't respond. "I did you what wanted," he added, if only to break the awkward silence. "You know. With the letter." Jenny just looked at him. "Jen? Something wrong?" he asked gently.

"I just don't think you could possibly want me after that. It shouldn't matter how much I regret it. I still hurt you." Gibbs stared into her eyes for a moment, and then, for a change, he knew what needed to be said.

"You know, Jenny, you're right. Sometimes I don't want you. And, at the moment, I really hate you." Gibbs felt the slightest bit bad when he saw Jenny wince, but he wasn't finished yet. "But, I still love you. Because I tried, and I just can't stop."

Jenny didn't know what was more shocking. What Gibbs had just said, or the fact that he had said it in so many words. Unbidden, memories of their telephone conversation floated back to her. _Who knew, _she mused,_ that the "but" would end up being a good thing? _Jenny looked up.

"Jethro... long-distance like this... do you think we can make it work?" He sensed the fear and hesitation, the reluctance to even ask. She didn't want the answer to be no. Gibbs knew, however, that comforting her with empty promises wouldn't work. He'd learned that, with Jenny. He'd always been able to read people. And one of the reasons he'd like Jenny in the first place was that, unlike everyone else, when he tried, she looked right back.

"There's only one way to find out, Jen," he said softly. And as their lips met, Jenny remembered why Jethro had caused her unwritten "no relationships ever" rule to go down in flames. He told her truth. A more sensitive man might have offered comfort, but Jenny didn't want sensitive. _We have a chance now,_ Jenny thought happily, before she allowed all of her attention to be diverted to the man in her arms.

It was true, their relationship had been a bit of mess back in Europe. They were so many different things to one another all at the same time, they'd never known what side of it was progressing. In so many ways that had been good, but they'd also had no idea what to do with their other relationships when the professional one changed. Now the smoke had cleared and they could do nothing for the future but hope.

A/N: So, I know the timing in the show is a little sketchy, and she may not have been in Cairo right after Paris, but I didn't feel like making up another place and on OC to take Ziva's role, so don't yell at me for it. Also, I know it's a bit ambiguous at the end (ambiguity is my best friend/favorite literary device), but in my personal version they do make it work. I just couldn't resist writing it that way. And I'd love to apologize about some of the paragraphs being long, but 1) I don't want to break rule 8 and 2) I really couldn't find a good spot to break them.

Thanks for reading!


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